Mountains, and Those Who Climb Them
by Kejfe Blintz
Summary: Set after 'Silent Night', sometimes it takes a mountain to solve a problem or two. Father/Son. Can be read as a companion piece to my story 'Family'


**Disclaimer: Still don't own them, still making no money from them, still promise to bring them back in as many pieces as I found them in.**

**A/N: Just want to thank all my regular readers for all your wonderful reviews for my stories. I'm so pleased the things I write for my pleasure give you pleasure also. Thank you.**

Gibbs sat on his father's porch, the mountains looming in the distance stained brilliant hues of pink and purple by the setting sun. There was a time when this was view was as familiar to him as his own reflection, and he let this familiarity comfort him as it always used to. Somehow the mountains managed to soothe any concerns he'd had growing up, their sheer scale and age helped him to realise the insignificance of any problem he had compared with all that Mother Nature had to offer. A burst of laughter from inside the house pulled him from his reverie. The door behind him swung open and the aroma of strong coffee preceded the arrival of Tony. The mug was handed to him and a quilt, created by his grandmother to celebrate his birth, was draped around his shoulders.

"You looked cold."

Tony's statement was made as he sat on the porch swing beside Gibbs, who was surprised to find that he was indeed cold. The two lapsed into the companiable silence which characterised their relationship. Gibbs sipped the coffee and allowed it, along with the combined warmth of the quilt and Tony's body heat, to warm him through. After a few minutes, Tony broke the silence.

"You OK Boss?"

"Don't know."

The simple statement slipped out before Gibbs had a chance to stop it. Tony thankfully didn't respond, allowing the security of silence to wash back over them. The hoot of an owl started him talking again.

"You know, I was thinking earlier about last Christmas, do you remember? We'd all come over and decorated your house, even the boat was covered in tinsel…you cooked turkey and all the trimmings…I'll never forget the look on Jenny's face when she came into the living room where we were all in a Twister tangle with the broken mug…"

Tony laughed softly to himself at the memory. Gibbs smiled, remembering happy chatter, good company and some festive movie with puppets…No, Muppets, Gibbs corrected himself.

"Seems like a lifetime ago."

Gibbs just nodded in agreement. The door opened again and Jackson stuck his head through the gap, peering into the dusky gloom that had slunk onto the porch.

"You boys alright out here?"

"Yeah Dad, we're fine."

"I'll leave you to it then."

The door was closed; once again the only sounds came from Mother Nature getting ready for the nightshift. Gibbs leaned back on the swing, pulling the quilt tighter round himself and moving closer to the warmth emanating from Tony.

"It's been a funny old year."

"That it has Tony, that it has."

The two men, so alike in so many ways sat together, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Gibbs placed his now empty coffee mug on the floor then sat back, leaning most of his bodyweight against Tony. The comfort offered by this remarkable young man did more to soothe his fractured mind than a mountain range and solitude ever could. He felt an arm worm its way around his waist, pulling him closer. A year ago, Tony would never have had the guts to do this, and if he was being honest, Gibbs wouldn't have allowed him to. A lot can change in twelve months. Settling closer and resting his head on the offered shoulder, no more words were needed. Gibbs closed his eyes and let his mind wander, safe in the knowledge that someone was there to help him find his way back if he got lost.

He thought of all he'd lost, especially of Jenny. He'd loved her, in his own way, and if circumstances had been different then who knows how their relationship might have developed. Losing her the way he had affected him more than he'd expected, but even during the darkest moments he'd never once blamed Tony or Ziva. It had been Jenny's decision and he respected that. Losing his team had been another blow. He considered them family and having them not only taken away from him, but scattered around the globe had been the last straw in a very bad week. He remembered hugging Ziva before she left the Navy Yard for the last time, then the emotionally difficult night spent helping Tony prepare both physically and mentally for becoming an Agent Afloat. If he was honest, it was the loss then the subsequent return of his team which mellowed him, helped him become more demonstrative toward them. After all, he'd already experienced life without them and didn't want to repeat it. Ever.

It was also a year of finding things he'd thought lost to him. Finding peace with the loss of Shannon and Kelly was still a long way off, but he was able to talk about them now. He couldn't describe the sense of relief when his team accepted them as a part of him, never asking more than he was willing to give. His father's return into his life was unexpected, but no less welcome. Their relationship was still somewhat strained, but both were working hard to rebuild bridges long ago burned. Tony's presence was actually helping this process along, smoothing disputes and reminding Gibbs to act like an adult rather than a petulant teenager. As if sensing he was being thought about, the arm around him squeezed gently, hugging him closer for a moment. Gibbs sighed, once more breaking the peaceful quiet that had fallen.

"Doing better?"

"Maybe."

"OK, got nowhere else to be."

As if to confirm this Tony's other arm came around him, resting gently and completely encircling Gibbs. It was so long since anyone had held him like this, with no other agenda. Tony wasn't doing this to manipulate him, or entrap him, or as a prelude to sex. He was being held because he needed it, because he was loved. This realisation almost tipped him over the edge of the emotional ledge he'd been teetering on ever since he sought the solace of the porch. Fighting back tears he didn't want to cry, he took a deep shuddering breath, willing himself back under control. He would not cry, he would not be weak.

"I knew a Marine once who told me that even strong men cry when they're hurting, because it takes more strength to admit to it than hide it."

The quiet, steady voice was all it took for his battle to be lost. In a very uncharacteristic display of emotion Gibbs turned his face into the crook of Tony's neck and sobbed. Only Tony and the animals of the night bore witness to his grief, the reassuring bulk of the mountains watching over them all.

Tony held the distraught man close, rocking the swing gently and carding his fingers through his hair, letting him cry. Tears spilled down his own cheeks as he shared the despair of the man in his arms – the man he admired, respected and loved more deeply than anyone else in the world. Time passed, the moon rose and the sobbing eventually quietened into the occasional sniff. Gibbs still had his face hidden, ashamed at himself and dismayed his own body had betrayed him in such a fashion. Tony stroked his hair one final time before encouraging him to lift his head, which he steadfastly refused to do.

"Hey Boss, look at me."

Gibbs shook his head, unwilling to see the disgust he was sure he'd find on Tony's face.

"C'mon, please?"

It was the please that did it. He cautiously lifted his head and found his face being wiped with a handkerchief that Tony produced from who-knows-where. When he could see again, he could make out nothing but love shining through Tony's eyes in the murky dark of the porch.

"I'm not going to get all sentimental on you, because neither of us can handle it, so all I'm going to say is I loved and respected you before and that changed nothing, OK?"

Humbled, Gibbs nodded.

"Good. Now some advice. In future, quit being such a pig-headed Marine and talk to me before that happens again. Clear?"

Gibbs gave a watery chuckle at Tony's mock-stern telling off and saluted sloppily.

"Yes Sir."

"Don't call me Sir, I work for a living."

Gibbs smiled at hearing one of his own lines parroted back at him.

"That's debatable."

"Hey!"

Gibbs out-right laughed at Tony's outrage.

"I guess I walked right into that one, huh?"

Gibbs nodded, then took time to look, really look, at the man who'd held him close while he sobbed his heart out on his father's porch like some heartbroken schoolgirl, and not batted an eyelid. Before him sat a man who'd had to mature quickly, all that he'd been through this year had shaped him into not only an exceptional Agent, but a truly extraordinary man. Tony grew uncomfortable under such close scrutiny.

"What? Am I glowing green or something?"

"Nope."

"Well what?"

"Just looking."

"Um…OK?"

"You know I love you, don't you?"

"Yeah Boss, I know."

Gibbs nodded and rested his head back on Tony's now-damp shoulder. After a moment or two enjoying the closeness, Tony spoke up again.

"We should really think about heading back in before your Dad thinks we've left town."

Gibbs hummed in agreement but made no effort to move.

"C'mon, before he comes out with a search party and finds us in this highly compromising position. I have a reputation to uphold you know."

It was only then that Gibbs realised he was still sitting in the circle of Tony's arms. Reluctantly he began to organise body parts and the quilt so he could stand up.

"What reputation?"

"You know, I think I liked you better when you were all moody-staring-at-the-mountains guy."

As they entered the kitchen bickering good-naturedly, Jackson took a good look at his son. Whatever had transpired on the porch had evidently done him good as he looked lighter somehow, more relaxed. Jackson hated the darkness he saw in his son's eyes, but it seemed to be lessening. Tony lit up his life in a way nobody had managed since the death of his beloved wife and child. Leroy did better when surrounded by a family who loved him and Jackson was determined to give him that, no matter how long it took. He had patience, the mountains taught him that.

* * *


End file.
